Chapter 5 - The Velvet Trap
Before Julian could process the staggering revelation, the heavy iron doors of the archive slammed shut from the outside with a deafening bang.
A heavy iron bolt slid home with a sickening metallic screech.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Julian shouted, lunging forward and slamming his fists against the thick oak doors. “Open this door right now!”
From the other side, a muffled, mocking laugh echoed through the wood. It wasn't Beatrice's raspy voice. It was Elena.
“Open it? Oh, my sweet, foolish husband, I don't think so,” Elena’s voice filtered through the door, dripping with venom and sudden, absolute triumph. “Did you really think I wouldn't secure my position? Did you think I wouldn't notice my dear, supposedly dead Aunt Beatrice lurking in the shadows of my estate?”
Inside the archive, Beatrice didn't look panicked. Instead, a grim, knowing smile played on her withered lips. She leaned against her cane and watched Julian lose his composure.
“Elena, you arrogant fool, let us out!” Julian yelled, rattling the door handle violently. “If you harm a hair on that girl's head—!”
“That girl is a threat to everything I’ve built!” Elena shrieked from the hallway. “Every penny, every asset, every square inch of this estate belongs to me and my future children. I didn't marry into the Vance dynasty just to watch some filthy little maid step up and inherit the crown! Enjoy your family reunion in the dark, darlings. The gas valves to the east wing are opening as we speak.”
Gas.
The subtle, sickening scent of natural gas began to seep through the floor vents, filling the cold air of the archive with a rapid, suffocating sharpness.
Mia screamed, covering her nose and mouth with the wool blanket, coughing violently as the fumes began to burn her lungs. Julian dropped to his knees beside her, panic overriding every rational thought. He searched frantically along the walls for a manual release or a hidden latch, his hands bleeding as he scraped against the rough stone masonry.
“There's no manual release from this side, Julian,” Beatrice said calmly, her voice disturbingly steady as she watched the vapor cloud the yellow light.
“Then we're going to die here!” Julian roared over Mia's terrifying coughs. “Your grand plan ends with us choking to death in a basement tomb!”
“Not us, Julian,” Beatrice corrected softly, reaching into the deep pockets of her woolen coat and pulling out a heavy, brass-plated cylinder. She tossed it across the floor straight to him. “You.”
Julian caught the cylinder, staring down at it in confusion. It was an industrial oxygen respirator, fully loaded and functional.
“What is this?” Julian breathed.
“There is only enough air in that tank for one person,” Beatrice said, stepping backward toward the dark, recessed shadows of the hidden alcove where the sea breeze still whispered through a narrow, iron-barred ventilation shaft too small for an adult, but just large enough—
Beatrice grabbed Mia by the shoulders, pulling the coughing, struggling girl toward the secret passage.
“Grandma? What are you doing? Let me go!” Mia cried out, tears streaming through the soot on her face.
“Listen to me, Mia,” Beatrice said, her voice cracking with a rare, fierce tenderness as she shoved the girl toward the narrow iron bars leading out to the sea cliffs. “Take the rings. Take the locket. Go down to the shore where the boat waits. You are a Vance. Don't ever let them forget it.”
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“No! I won't leave you!” Mia screamed, pounding her small fists against the iron bars as Beatrice locked the grate from the inside, sealing her fate.
Julian watched in horrified silence as Beatrice turned around, walking calmly back into the thickening cloud of gas, leaning heavily on her cane, leaving Julian and the oxygen tank alone in the center of the room.
